Face Cream

Beth was gorgeous. That evening, she was still wearing her work outfit - a tight-fitting dark grey minidress that barely covered her arse when she was standing up, never mind sitting, and smooth black tights which showed off her long skinny legs to perfection. The dress clung to waist and her pert B-cup breasts. She was sat opposite me on an armchair also occupied by her boyfriend, Andy; she was sat in his lap, leaning back against one arm with her legs over the other. Her inhibitions had lessened as the wine had flowed, so that I was being treated to more and more prolonged views of her thighs as her hem rode up (or, more accurately, fell down as she raised her legs) and forgot to readjust it to protect her modesty. The thin black material stretched across her thighs, revealing the warp and weft, and I glimpsed an occasional flash of red knicker elastic beneath the control top of her tights.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to change the position of my cock so that it wasn't painfully trapped pointing down the leg of my jeans without letting the three other people in the room know what I was doing. Not that I would have minded Steve, the huge rugby player sprawled on the sofa to my right, know what was happening -- we'd watched a couple of pornos with our former housemate Colin after the getting back from the pub the worse for wear. I mean, we hadn't got our dicks out and started wanking or anything weird like that. We'd just been -- you know - blokes watching porn.

No. I was trying to hide my situation partly from the couple sat in the armchair opposite. Andy and Beth had moved into the large double room at the front of the house when Colin bought his own place. They were a perfectly matched couple: both tall, skinny and athletic, both incredibly smart, both teachers, both from nice middle-class families in the Home Counties. Like Colin, they had moved into this dump while trying to save up for a deposit for a house, renting somewhere cheap and vaguely cheerful in the meantime.

Which is why, on a spring Friday evening, I was sat watching Beth sitting in James' lap drinking cheap red wine. And watching her that had made my cock hard.

"Carl?"

Steve's voice bought me back into the room with a start. I looked over and saw him grinning at me --it was obvious that Beth wasn't the only one forgetting herself after a few glasses of plonk and that he'd caught me lecherously staring up our young housemate's skirt.

"Hmmm?" I asked, non-committedly.

"If you could physically change one thing about yourself, what would it be?"

I took a sip of wine and thought for a few seconds. "Lose the beer belly... be a couple of inches taller.... Maybe be a little less hairy...."

"Some women like a hairy man," Beth chipped in. I desperately hoped that she was one of them.

"And what about you, Miss Shapwick?" Steve asked mischievously.

When I said earlier that Beth was gorgeous, she wasn't without her faults; she was gorgeous, but she would never make it as a model. Her hair, for example, was a sort of mousy brown and would never feature in a shampoo commercial for its lusciousness. When she wore it down, it did do a fantastic job of hiding her sticky-out-ears which I was sure she would have been teased about as a child. She wore it down a lot, apart from when she was running (a daily occurrence) when she wore it in a high ponytail. I looked across and hoped that she wouldn't say that she wanted bigger boobs -- I had spent many an evening looking at them through her tops, imagining sucking on her hard little nipples, seeing how much of her breasts I could fit into my mouth at once.

"Weeeellll...." she thought. "I'd like my skin to be better." I breathed a sigh of relief. "Some days it's fine and then the next day it can be all rashy and spotty and there doesn't seem to be any reason. I've got a wedding to go to in a couple of weeks and I wish I could guarantee my face would look lovely in the photo's."

"Your face always looks lovely," Andy smiled at her.

"Awwww, thanks!" she replied and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"You know what's good for skin, don't you?" Steve asked, a grin on his face. I think we all knew what coming, so to speak, but didn't have time to stop the punchline. "Sperm!" he guffawed and lent back laughing at his own joke.

"I do my best!" Andy replied and got a punch in the arm for his efforts.

"And what about you Steve?" Beth asked, not at all put out by the crude turn the conversation had taken. "What would you change about yourself?"

Steve swung his legs off the sofa and suddenly looked serious. "Well," he started, gloomily looking at his hands and rubbing them together, anxiously. "If you must know... I do have one thing that I would change.... It's made my life a living hell at times.... I wish.... well...." We all learned in expectantly. "I wish I had a smaller penis!" We all groaned and leant back in our seats. "Just the 9 inches would do!" he smiled.

"And on that sour note," Andy said, "It's time for bed."

*********************

I had a troubled night's sleep, waking intermittently, and every time I woke, I had an image of Beth drifting through my mind. Beth as she was sat last night, flashing her legs; Beth standing with her back to me, lifting her skirt to reveal her pert bum, skimpy red thong visible through her black pantyhose; Beth with my cock in her mouth; Beth, her brown hair spread over a white pillow pushing her tiny tits together whilst I straddled her naked torso and wanked my cock; Beth with her eyes glued together and face covered in huge wads of cum, huge wads of my cum...

I woke early with a raging hard-on. I was tempted to take matters into my own hands there and then, but I had a whole day of doing nothing but watching sport and porn ahead of me and decided to pace myself a little. Who knew what the day would bring?

When my morning wood had subsided a bit, I slumped out of bed and headed, scratching and yawning, downstairs to the kitchen in search of coffee and breakfast. I pushed open the kitchen door and found Beth already standing in the open patio doors, eating a bowl of what would undoubtedly be healthy and utterly tasteless granola. If I thought I had woken early, she had clearly beaten me by a long stretch -- her sweat stained running gear clung to every inch of her lythe young body. I subconsciously glanced down, hoping that my cock was behaving itself and not rising to the occasion as it had last night.

"Morning!" she beaned at me, turning around in a way that made the high ponytail whip around on her shoulders.

"Hnnngghh," I grunted in reply, turning the kettle on.

Beth remained standing in the window as I made myself a coffee and sat at the dining room table behind her, admiring her arse in the tight black bottoms she was wearing. There was a definite ridge where her bum met her legs, and a gap between her thighs that you could definitely slip a finger between even when she was standing straight with her feet together. Silhouetted against the morning light like this her figure was even clearer.

Eventually she finished her breakfast and turned to face me. Months of practice made be focus on her smiling face rather than her tits or groin, but man was it hard to do.

"No Andy this morning?" I asked. They normally ran together, doing 10k quicker than I could do 5.

"He's away this weekend -- Duke of Edinburgh -- remember?" I vaguely remembered a conversation about it; it came as no surprise that wholesome Andy would give up his weekend to take a bunch of entitled middle-class kids camping rather than spending his time fucking his sexy girlfriend senseless. Beth walked over to the sink, her arse cheeks gently wobbling in the tight lycra, and washed her bowl in the sink before filling a glass of water and returning to sit at the table with me.

"Errr..." she started nervously. "What do you think about what Steve said last night?"

"Naahh," I replied, taking a sip of coffee. "No way he's got a 10-inch dick."

Beth smiled. "Not that," she said. "The.... other thing." She blushed slightly at this point but still managed to look me in the eye. "About my spots and... skincare. I've been to the doctors and been prescribed cream and pills, but nothing has ever worked so may be if there was an...alternative..." I was impressed -- she'd managed to talk about something very sexual without mentioning sperm at all.

I shrugged non-committedly. "No idea," I said, although I was fairly sure it was complete bollocks. "I mean, it's supposed to be high in protein and stuff, and I suppose it easily applied. I guess it can't do any harm trying it." A small pause. "I bet Andy wouldn't complain!"

"I bet he won't!" Beth smiled. "He didn't last night anyway!" She grinned and blushed and I hardened again, the memories of last night flooding back.

"Not sure about how much you'd need though," I joined in. "I mean, is he up for a daily application? And you'd have to think about quantity too..."

"Maybe I ought to go online and do some research before he gets back!" she smiled and pushed her chair back. "Going for a shower," she announced and left the room before I could give any warning about what to enter in the search engine.

*********************

I spent the rest of the day feeling fat and stupid, and determined to do something about both. I was single and the sight of Beth made me realise I had no hope of getting a girlfriend if I spent my weekend jerking off to porn and slobbing on the sofa. I got myself ready and headed out for a swim before buying some new trainers, grooming products, shirts and (optimistically) a 12 pack of condoms. I even managed to eat healthily and buy a couple of books before returning home just in time to see Final Score, after which I showered and cooked another healthy meal.

The house was empty when I got back (Andy was away for the weekend, Steve was off playing rugby somewhere up North and wouldn't be back until the early hours of Sunday morning) and I was looking forward to having the TV to myself for the evening when Beth returned. I was surprised -- I assumed she would have taken advantage of her weekend of freedom and arranged to meet up with some girlfriends. After she had cooked herself something incredibly healthy, we cracked open a bottle of red, and settled we settled down to watch a film on Netflix, Beth stretched out on the sofa and me in the same chair as the previous night.

I waited until we'd both had a couple of large glasses and were most of the way through the first bottle before I started the conversation that had been going through my head all day.

"So how did the internet search go?" I asked innocently.

"Christ, "she spluttered, "There's some weird stuff out there!" She grinned at me. "Got a few tips though!"

"So how often do you need to apply it to make it work?" I asked, ready for the rebuttal that it was all bollocks, if you'll excuse the pun.

"Daily," came the completely unexpected reply. "According to one site. And you need a fair amount of it too!"

"Do you think Andy's up to the job?" I asked.

Beth stretched her legs out, poking her toes towards me. The skin-tight jeans she was wearing were not as sexy as her skirts and tights or her running gear, but I could still see the shape of her legs, and her back arched slightly, pushing her tits out. She was wearing a fluffy white jumper which slipped off her shoulders revealing the straps of a white vest top and bra beneath. Her hair was loose, down over her shoulders, which didn't happen very often.

"He'd love to give it a go! But I think anyone would find it hard to produce that much sperm that often. Don't you have to rest every now and again to let the reserves build up?"

"Hmmm," I replied, thinking back to the 3-day wank marathon I'd had when I'd first got unsupervised access to the internet when I was 18, at the end of which it almost hurt to ejaculate. "You could always out-source some of it."

"Out-source? You mean..."

"I bet there's some bloke at work that would jump at the chance!" I interrupted.

"Carl, I work in a small village primary school. The only man that works there is the caretaker and he's 73. I think if I asked him to cum on my face, he'd probably have a heart attack."

"Yeah, but what a way to go!" I grinned. "You could advertise on the internet!" I continued, "Or there's supposed to be a dogging site just out of town!"

"I am not," she said firmly, throwing a cushion at me for emphasis, "Going to let complete strangers wank themselves off onto my face!" I was pleased to see that she was still grinning wildly at me despite the blush that was spreading over her cheeks: I'd been worried that I'd pushed my luck a tad too far.

We both turned our attention back to the movie and drank more wine, letting the elephant in the room fester in the corner. One of us would have to mention it, it was just a case of waiting to see who would crack first. If it was me, I ran the risk of getting it wrong and being labelled a pervert, which would make living in the same house somewhat difficult; if it was her, I'd be a very happy man indeed.

I lasted 30 seconds.

"What about people who you know?" I asked, still watching the TV.

"Caaaarrrllll! Nooooooo!" she squealed, although I was glad to see she was still laughing. Another 30 seconds crept past. "Although...." She paused and looked in my direction.

"Although?"

"Maybe if there was some way of.... you know.... someone I know supplying the semen for me to use, I'd be very grateful." She maintained eye contact with me throughout this entire sentence, and for yet another long pause after it.

"So," I started carefully, "Let me get this straight -- you want me to provide you with my sperm so that you can use it as a face cream?"

She smiled again. "That's about right!" she grinned. "Oh, come on Carl! I'm desperate! I just want one set of pictures of me where I'm not covered in fucking spots or a rash. I've tried everything! I just want to be pretty for once."

"Shit, Beth, you're gorgeous!" I said, and I meant it.

"Ok -- prettier," she relented, blushing again. "Listen... I know I can trust you and you've been a great housemate and it's not as if we'd be doing anything wrong or I'd be cheating on Andy."

I couldn't believe it. She was serious. We looked at each other for a few seconds before she broke eye contact and mumbled "Sorry, forget it..." and made as if to get up. I sprang to my feet, palms out, and shouted "No! I'll do it!"

"Really?"

"How long until this wedding?" I asked.

"Two weeks today," she grinned.

"Ok -- you can have my sperm on demand," I said, "On one condition."

She raised her eyebrows quizzically.

"I get to watch you apply it."

She paused briefly before thrusting out a hand for me to shake. "Deal!" she exclaimed and grinned again.

*********************

I don't think I'd ever gone upstairs quicker than I did that day; I left Beth laughing behind me and ran before she changed her mind. As soon as I got in my room, I pulled my trousers down and sat in front of my computer, cock in hand. I loaded up the first porno I could find (a woman in her 20's pretending to be a hotel manager assuaging an unhappy guest) and wanked myself as I watched her large saggy tits swing as she was taken from behind. I'd watched it before and had no idea why it turned me on so much -- the woman wasn't particularly beautiful or anything, but her tits were fantastic, and I loved the look on her face which was a mixture of boredom and resignation. And the facial at the end was huge.

I was getting close to my own climax (let's face it, Beth talking dirty had turned me on just as much as the porn) when I realised my schoolboy error -- nothing to catch the cum in! I yanked open the desk drawer and found the packet of condoms I'd bought earlier. I squeezed the air out of the tip and rolled it down over my dick before continuing to pump my cock in my fist. The hotel scene finished, and I clicked on a blue haired amateur sucking cock in a glory hole instead... I lasted until the third anonymous cock came over her face before I spasmed and filled the condom with spunk.

I stood up and carefully removed the condom, being careful not to spill any, pulled my trousers back up and headed back downstairs. Beth was still on the sofa where I'd left her. She'd obviously used the ten minutes I'd been gone well as the bottle of red I'd left was considerably emptier and her face was considerably more flushed. She had also put her hair up into her running ponytail and removed her fluffy jumper, revealing a tight white vest that clung to her boobs and an unusual (for her) expanse of chest; I glanced down and saw a constellation of freckles and moles, dark against her pale skin. As I walked in, she moved onto the edge of the seat and looked at me, noticing my glance at the neatly folded sweater next to the sofa.

"It's a bugger to clean," she said, looking back at me. Her eyes were large and almond shaped, the pupil a sort of chestnut brown. "I don't want it to get stained," she explained. "Have you got...?" She left the question hanging in the air.

I thrust the condom towards her a little too enthusiastically and almost hit her in the face with the cum-filled teat.

"Eeeuuurrrgghhh! That's been on your cock!" She seemed genuinely disgusted, which I thought was a little odd as she was about to smear the contents all over her face.

"What were you expecting me to do it in?" I asked, puzzled.

"I don't know.... one of those little whiskey glasses?"

"I drink out of those!"

"Well," she giggled, regaining her composure, "We would have washed it!"

"So how do you want to do this?" I asked, swinging the condom around in front of her. "Do you want me to empty it onto your face?"

She shook her head. "I'd lose loads of it that way. Here...." She cupped both hands in front of her.

"Sure?" I asked.

"Sure," she replied.

Holding the tip of the condom, I let the opening fall into her left palm and watched as my cum flowed into it, creating a pool of watery spunk. Gripping it between my thumb and forefinger, I squeezed the last few drops out before dropping the used sheath onto the table and sitting back down in my armchair.

Beth looked down at her palms. I thought she was going to back out, but she suddenly lowered her face into her cupped hands, much like I would do when shaving, and proceeded to rub my cum into her face, smearing jizz into her cheeks and forehead, rubbing into her chin and finally using two fingers to rub her nose. When she finished, she looked up at me. She'd done a good job: her face glistened with wetness and there were only a couple of clumps of cum visible, both in her left eyebrow. Despite the fact that I'd only ejaculated a few minutes previously, I felt my cock harden again as I looked at her.

"It smells of rubber," Beth giggled. "And cum. But mainly rubber." She looked up at me and smiled. "I smell of cum and rubber!" she grinned. "How long do you think I should leave it on for?"

"Overnight?" I guessed. "I mean, probably as long as you can to get the maximum benefit."

"Overnight it is!"

She stood up and bent over to give me a peck on the cheek, then began to edge somewhat unsteadily towards the door. She paused and looked back at the table. "Can you.... take care of the.... evidence?" She paused. "Goodnight!"

She went to bed, leaving me nursing an erection and wondering how far down this particular slippery slope I could persuade her to go.

*********************

I didn't see Beth the next day; I didn't see either Steve or Andy either for that matter. I'd done a bit of swapping around of shifts weeks ago so that I could work all day Sunday and pull a double shift on Tuesday so that I could have Monday off, and after work I'd gone to see a film and to the pub with some mates. By the time I got home, the other three were long tucked up in bed.